The Same Sky
by Katalia1215
Summary: Alfred and Matthew, twins, have eachother for comfort. When Matthew becomes heartsick for home, we see how Alfred will cure his sadness. A short story on how far a brother's love can go.


If you were to stand on the Jersey side of the Hudson River, the expansive view of New York City comes to fill yours eyes from corner to corner. It's filled to the brim with stories of struggles, joy, heartbreak, and happiness. Just focusing on one apartment building would lead the mind to imagine countless stories.

Across the waters of the Hudson, we come in to focus on a simple, three story apartment building. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Frankly, it was of the lower class of ordinary. Its faded red bricks gave little assistance to help make the New York Streets seem any cleaner. It had a Dutch roof, already showing some rot. In an honest attempt to liven up the poor building, its great, wooden, double-door entrance had been painted in the brightest shade of yellow paint, bought from a nearby hardware store owned by a Swedish man by the name of Berwald. Although it constantly needed to be repainted, the paint was bought at half price ("Why w'ld an'y'un need th's sha'de o' yel'o" the Swedish man would mumble)

But do not give up hope on this story yet! It is not the appearance of this building that I have tried to draw your attention to, it is its tenants. Two in particular.

Alfred F. Jones and Matthew Williams.

Though there names may not show it, truth be told they are actually twins. One month prior to today, the landlady, Katyusha came knocking on the door of Alfred's room. He opened the door to be greeted by the Ukrainian woman. Owing to her crybaby nature, she made a fuss about bothering Alfred at all. But he could be a gentleman when he wanted, so he expertly quelled her troubles and took the letter that she had come bring him. He had to graciously turn down her offers of repeal, and then slowly shut the faded brown door.

Alfred was not keen on opening letters, because they once held the grey news that his adoptive parents had died in a typhoon in the Philippines (they were loving people that did missionary work).

But Alfred, being the brave hero that he was, opened the white envelope. But the news that it contained made his sky-blue eyes widen in shock.

He had a twin brother, separated from birth, living in Canada

But fate has two faces, one of kindness, and one of cruelty.

Matthew Williams (Alfred thought his name was oddly timid), had been adopted by Canadian citizens. That's why they were separated. He was wondering why fate decided bring him such wonderful news.

But then he continued to read the letter:

_Though we do not send such information unless requested, it has come to our attention that Mr. Williams' parents have recently died. There are no other relatives to live with him, and it has been noted that you, Mr. Jones, have lost yours too._

Included in the letter was Matthew's address, somewhere nearby Quebec.

Alfred, whose heart was about to burst from old and new sadness, and yet great, warm, happiness, immediately made plans to go see his brother.

It wasn't that difficult for Alfred to get there. His father had left him his precious airplane, an original from WW2 he had used for his work, kept in pristine condition. And Alfred made it a point to learn how to fly. ("What hero couldn't fly?")

In three days time Alfred was able to get enough money for airplane fuel and flew to Canada.

His return with his newfound twin brother to the apartment was an event to all the tenants. They marveled at their striking similarities, and their defining differences.

The shapes of Alfred and Matthew's face were exactly the same. But Alfred's eyes were as blue as a the vast, endless sky. Matthew's eyes were a beautiful shade of violet. Both their eyes were behind wire-rimmed glasses. Though they were the same height, Matthew slender, almost feminine body greatly contrasted with Alfred's toned physique. Matthew skin was pale, almost porcelain like a precious doll, while Alfred's was sun kissed a bit from all the "adventures" he would make. His hair was a bright blond shade, short and a bit endearingly fussy, with an odd bunch of hair rebelliously sticking up on his head at all times.

The fanfare caused by his arrival brought out his shy nature, because the other tenants noticed how he spoke in low, polite tones, and he constantly kept his head down, hiding behind his above the shoulder, orange-blond, wavy hair that gracefully framed his face.

And this was a surprise, since Alfred was the loudest person they all knew. He gave his brother an unconsciously strong pat on the back, which issued a "Maple!" from Matthew's lips. Alfred flashed his signature sunshine smile at him, beaming, and yelled:

"Come on, this is the best to ever happen!"

Or so he thought.

Don't get me wrong, their brotherly love grew at an amazing speed, owing to the years lost that they were separated. The first week was spent doing all the silly things brothers should do: baseball, tag, playing in the rain, catching bugs at the nearby park. Though they were both 20, this sort of behavior fit Alfred's bright, childish nature oh so well. Alfred took a try at ice hockey, which only ended (to Matthew's joy) in Alfred's failure, and amazingly, bruises. Mattie (Alfred's name for his brother) learned of his brother's scary love for hamburgers, but this was equally matched by Alfred discovering Matthew's obsession for pancakes.

But as the days passed, Alfred noticed his brother becoming quieter and quieter, which should be an amazing feat itself!

Matthew was easily exhausted by Alfred's energetic nature, but as the days passed on, Alfred noticed he would constantly sit in a chair by the window, look longingly outside, and sigh quietly. His violet eyes would haze over a bit with a twinge of sadness. It slowly got worse and worse, till we come to today.

The apartment flat wasn't too big to begin with. The washstand and dresser took up the south side of the attic, the stairs and door were to the east side. A simple heater stood against the wall to the west, accompanied by two wooden bookshelves containing tattered volumes, magazines, trading cards, and pictures. Alongside said wall was also an old, faded white fridge, retro stove and oven combo, and a cabinet with mismatching plates and silverware. At the center there were two wooden chairs surrounding a lime green table they had found outside. The wood floor showed wear, and mysteriously against the east wall held the outline where a tv must've, but no longer, been.

To the north of the room was the sole window of the room.

And the only bed that they had, which contained Matthew.

He had sighed himself sick, and he was now resigned to the bed sheets, his thin form causing ripples in the white sheets. Matthew's skin had become a ghostly pale, and he only got out of bed to use the restroom, or to eat (which was seldom, and very little). He would lie there for hours on end, staring sadly out the window, the only sight meeting his eyes being the currently grey sky of New York. The soft pitter-patter of the rain was all that accompanied the sad melody of his sighs.

It had driven Alfred crazy.

At first he had tried his (annoyingly) best attempts at cheering Mattie up. But not even the best hamburgers ever could lift his spirits.

And then he began to blame himself for it.

Alfred would try to coax the reason for distress from Matthew, but every question was replied by another sigh…

So Alfred called the doctor, Ludwig (or rather, the closest person the apartment had to a doctor. He was a military medic on leave.)

Alfred was told to wait outside his room while Ludwig examined Matthew. Which was nearly impossible. By the time Ludwig exited the room and shut the door behind him, he was met with the sight of Alfred hanging from the rafters with his legs, doing sit ups, whilst whistling the Batman theme,

Ludwig inwardly sighed too. "Alfred, get down from der…."

And he did so with ease.

Ludwig turned his stoic face to him, but it softened a bit for his news.

"Der is nothing ve can do about Matthew. It is his heart dat is sick, and der is no medicine for da heart. He vill only live if he can solve dis problem. If not, it does not look very good. "

Alfred's head swam with sadness, and anxiety. He grabbed Ludwig by the shoulders and shook him, "Isn't there ANYTHING we can do? C'mon man, it's Mattie!"

Ludwig placed a calloused hand on Alfred's arm, looked him into his celeste eyes with his steely blue and said, "You are de only von dat can find vat is wrong."

And with that, he left.

Alfred quietly entered the room and walked straight to the bed. He sat at Matthew side, causing the bed to heave to one side a bit. But Matthew was barely jostled from his position. He sat there for a long time, and Matthew didn't turn to face him.

The dreary silence was suffocating and hanging over them. So Alfred tried to strike up anything to lift the heaviness.

"So I was reading this comic-"

"The sky…"

"What?"

Matthew finally turned his tired eyes to him. He spoke in a voice two tones lower, and Alfred strained to listen.

"The sky here is so different from Canada. I'm not saying its bad, but its just….."

"Just?", Alfred tried to ply.

"Under the Canadian sky I used to run around the nature reserve my adoptive parents worked at. I played with this polar bear cub with a disease that stinted his physical growth. I think his name was…..Kumamoji….Kumakichi…."His brows furrowed together in though,

"Ah, Kumajirou…," he said fondly.

Alfred looked at him dead in his tired violet eyes. For once he put on a serious tone which did a minimal shock to Matthew.

"Do you miss Canada?"

Matthew bowed his head down again, and tears began to stain the crisp white sheets.

"Ye…yes Alfred. The sky is so different. I used to be able to look up at the night sky with my parents and count the shooting stars. It was beautiful, the bright yellow streaking through the sky, leaving behind its beauty. There are no stars here in the city…."

And this was why Alfred blamed himself. He had taken Matthew from his comfort and life. He noticed in the beginning how Mattie hadn't been so down from his parents death. But somewhere in Alfred's thick head, he realized Matthew was hiding it for his sake.

And that's when he got an idea.

He grabbed Matthew as gently as possible from his back and pulled him into an upright position.

"Matthew," Alfred said with strength. "No matter where we are in this crazy world, we're united by the same sky. Even when I was miles and miles away from you, we were still under the same sky!" He motioned to the grey morning of NYC that was outside the window with his hand.

"I'm your brother, Mattie. I'm here to be your hero, so don't hold it all in. Don't ever forget that. Even when the sky gets all grey, don't be in a bummer." Alfred flashed him another smile and a thumbs up, which slightly alleviated Matthew's somberness.

"I swear on my hero's heart and all the hamburgers in the world, that its still the same sky."

Matthew was too tired to argue with Alfred's odd logic, but simply nodded.

"Hey Mattie, promise me tonight to look out into the sky. Your sky will definitely be there. I promise you'll see, and you'll feel better."

His arm left Matthews back. Alfred sprung forth the bed, grabbed his precious bomber jacket, fixed his glasses, and ran out the door. Matthew heard Alfred yell as he ran down the stairs, "Katyusha! Lemme paint the door today!"

And so the rest of the day passed quietly. Alfred did not come back to the room anytime, and he asked Francis (this pervert from France that lived in their apartment. Alfred knew he had a thing for Mattie, and he didn't trust that guy one bit!) to cook for him. He knew he would feed Mattie well since he's one of those up starting chefs, and his name was already well known around these parts.

So Matthew continued to stare outside. He watched the day pass by, watching the sky darken and darken, till night's black spell fell upon the city. The wind was picking up, and a storm was coming.

"Sigh….Alfred, you know the sky's not the same…."Matthew's hearts sank a bit, and just as he was about to close his eyes, something bright caught his eye.

There, streaking against the black sky of New York City, was a yellow bolt of magic streaming through the air, blessing the sky with its vivid beauty. At its head was a bright mass of light, leaving behind ghostly strips of radiance in its path.

Matthew tried to fight back the tears, lest they cloud his vision and he miss any part of this moment.

Alfred was right. No matter how you think about it, it's the same sky.

Matthew leaped out of bed with his new burst of energy. He stuck his head out the window, crying and laughing at the same time as he watched the star fly in the distance. It was a surreal moment for him, and his heart was warm with joy.

When the star finally disappeared from his view, Matthew lay his head back onto the pillow. He didn't feel sad anymore, because he knows that everything he loves is under the same sky. Including Alfred.

Matthew let himself fall into the arms of sleep. He did not notice the sudden storm that followed after.

The next two days followed both happily and warily. Matthew ate all of Francis's exquisite food in joy (and to Francis' secret pleasure). Life was back, and color was slowly returning to his countenance. Matthew was finally out of bed, mingling with the other tenants.

He shouldn't be sad.

But he asked Francis if he had seen Alfred, since he didn't come to bed last night.

"Ah, non, mon cher. Alfred was oddly busy yesterday. Spent ze whole day out." He paused to brush his blond hair from his face, gaining a chuckle from Matthew.

Francis smiled.

"Not to worry, mon petit chou, zer is nothing to worry about."

The second night, Officer Kirkland was standing at the bright yellow door of the apartment. Katyusha opened it with fright, already on the brink of tears.

"Good evening, Ms. Braginsky," Officer Kirkland said in his true British accent.

"Ah! Um… he-hello Officer! What brings you here at such a late hour?" Katyusha nervously clasped her hands together as a gesture of both welcome and apprehension.

"I'm here to speak with Matthew Williams. Don't worry, nothing…."he paused at this word. "There aren't any problems."

By now all the tenants of the apartment had converged into the main hall, settling on the staircase. The Austrian Roderich, aspiring piano artist making a name for himself, Francis, Elizabeta, the Hungarian seamstress, the Vargas twins Lovino and Feliciano (who were also starting up a restaurant), and the family members of Katyusha- Natalya (whom everyone in the household feared), and her brother, Ivan (who was a million times scarier than Natalya, owing to his huge, muscular form and childish semblance).

And even Matthew was there.

He descended the stairs and walked to the doorway. It was a cool spring night, finally, and the skies were no longer cloudy.

Officer Kirkland looked at Matthew, then took his cap off in respect. His green eyes seemed to hesitate, but eventually settled on telling him straight.

"Matthew Williams, this morning a boat in the Hudson came across a wreckage, we were called in to investigate immediately. It was an airplane, and from the damage we surmised it be the fault of the storm from two nights ago. We ran the license, and we had to double check for sure, but we are positive. Its your brother Alfred's plane, and he must've been piloting it and got caught in the rain. "

"The reason why we had to double check the license, was because the color descriptions didn't match. Its supposed to be army green, but Alfred's plane had a seemingly fresh coat of the brightest shade of yellow I've ever seen."

_This is my first fan fiction._

Thank you.


End file.
